


Connect.

by GameandWolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Gunplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Object Insertion, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GameandWolf/pseuds/GameandWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty didn't think he'd ever find his soul mate until he meet a nice normal fellow named Sebastian Moran. Jim wants to give Sebastian the world. He's not sure how he's going to do this without admitting that he's a consulting criminal, but he's going to find a way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim sees _him_ for the first time while he’s working on building himself a cover story. He doesn’t need it yet, but it will do to have in the future. So when he first meets _him_ , he’s going by the name Richard Brook and hosting a children’s television show as The Storyteller.  
  
He’s sitting off to one side, going over his lines for the day when someone coughs to get his attention. Jim looks up and for the very first time in his life, he actually finds himself speechless. The man is tall, well-built, with short, dark hair and he doesn’t seem to notice the awkward stare that Jim is giving him as he extends his hand, introducing himself as Sebastian Moran. When Jim shakes his hand, he can see scars under the cuff of his shirt and feel calluses across his palm. His mind immediately starts to analyze. Military. Officer. High rank. Attended university. Ambidextrous. In any other situation, he could have come up with more instantly but this time his train of thought is derailed by the sight of a long thin scar creeping up from the collar of the man’s shirt and all he can focus on is how much he’d like to run his tongue over it and find out how it tastes.  
  
He snaps out of it long enough to give Sebastian his [fake] name and to find out that he has been hired as a handyman around the set. Jim points him in the right direction, where the crew leader for set building usually is. He almost offers to take Sebastian there himself but he doesn’t understand why he’d even want to do that, so he keeps it to himself.  
  
Sebastian thanks him politely and as he walks away Jim isn’t quite able to keep himself from staring after him.  
  
*  
  
Jim doesn’t approach Sebastian while they’re working on the set together. He keeps his distance from the man because he can’t figure out why he’s reacting this way. He’s been attracted to people, men and women alike, before and sex is nothing new to him; it’s a great stress reliever and a good distraction when things get too boring but he’s never _wanted_ someone like this before. He’s automatically suspicious of someone who’s gotten under his skin and he may or may not be tailing Sebastian home at night (he is).  
  
Sometime later, the crew of the show is celebrating wrapping an episode and they’re insisting on going out to a pub and _yes_ , Richard has to go; he’s the star. He doesn’t really want to go because they’re all so ordinary, so boring but he hears Sebastian accepting an invitation and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  
  
Preferring to keep to himself, he lets the others think he’s just a shy, socially awkward young actor while they try to convince him to put down his mobile and have another drink. But he’s got an empire to run and he waves them off with a feigned smile and an excuse about a sick aunt who needs checking up on.  
  
He keeps glancing at Sebastian out of the corner of his eye and one of the puppeteers has had too many drinks and she keeps nudging his shoulder, telling him how bad he’s got it. He doesn’t know what he supposedly has and he tells her that but she just giggles into her vodka and sashays away.  
  
Nothing interesting seems to be happening and Jim is debating the best way to make his escape when a fight breaks out at the bar. He doesn’t know what started it, but from his seat, he can see Sebastian tangled up in the middle of it and _damn_ , does he look good throwing a punch.  
  
Jim stays far away at first, watching as the fight progresses. He shifts in his seat and tries to ignore the warmth growing in the pit of his stomach. But he can’t ignore it any longer when he sees Sebastian catch a man’s punch and, with a quick upward palm strike, break the man’s arm at the elbow. There’s a brief flash of guilt across Sebastian’s face, as if he hadn’t really meant to do that and instinct had just won out. Jim barely notices the look because he’s too focused on the fact that he’s fully hard now and his denims are pressing against him painfully.His situation isn’t helped much when another crew member grabs him by the crook of his arm and drags him into the fray. He doesn’t fight; he has people who do that for him, but it doesn’t take more than a second to realize he’s actually been recruited to try and break the fight up. He manages to catch a hold of one of Sebastian’s wrists and very nearly gets a fist to his jaw for his trouble; Sebastian stops himself barely an inch from Jim’s face and blinks owlishly at him, as if not sure where he’d come from.  
  
He tightens his grip on Sebastian’s wrist and pulls him towards the back, where most of the crew are escaping out the rear door, hoping to avoid the police that are likely on the way.  
  
The whole group is finally out in the back alleyway and everyone is panting for air, several bent over laughing at the ridiculousness of whatever just happened. Sebastian grins sheepishly and scratches back of his head, apologizing for almost cold-cocking him. Jim’s mouth moves faster than his brain and he finds himself saying that it’s perfectly alright and Sebastian can make it up to him by buying him a drink at the next pub.  
  
Blue police lights start flashing and the entire crew takes off as one, running down the length of the alley, all angling for a new pub to hide in. They end up at some dingy hole in the wall and Sebastian buys Jim as shot of whiskey, as promised. They both drink far more than they should and Jim easily talks his way into Sebastian’s bed. (He finds out later from the others that his ‘subtle seduction’ mostly consisted of shoving his hand down the front of Sebastian’s trousers and asking if he wanted to fuck.)  
  
When he wakes up the next morning, naked in a bed he doesn’t recognize, he can’t actually remember anything from the night before, but the delightful ache in his body and the darkening hand shaped bruise on his neck say it was something that he wouldn’t mind doing again.


	2. Chapter 2

He wears a turtleneck jumper into work the next day and all it takes is pretending to blush and ducking his head in embarrassment to convince everyone that it’s only because he’s hiding a hickey under it.  
  
He hasn’t been able to find Sebastian and he’s pretty sure the man is avoiding him out of guilt for the marks he left, but Jim is determined to hunt him down and convince him to do it again. During a break in rehearsal, he finally catches up to him in the back of the carpentry workshop and he tries to bolt out the door as soon as he sees Jim.  
  
Jim catches him by the arm and offers him what he hopes is a friendly smile. “I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to talk to you.”  
  
“Richard, look, I’m sorry for…what I did. I was drunk, I shouldn’t have, I’m just-“  
  
“Sorry for which part?”  
  
“…what?”  
  
“Are you apologizing for sleeping with me or for leaving me with a nice new necklace?”  
  
“Um. Both. I think.” Sebastian looks absolutely bewildered and a bit like an animal being backed into a corner. Jim wonders if he can push him far enough to make him lash out. But he should probably save that until later. That thought doesn’t stop him from stepping fully into the man’s personal space. He tilts his head up to look at the taller man and cocks his head to one side.  
  
“Shame. I liked it. Both, that is.”  
  
It takes some convincing to make Sebastian believe that Jim actually enjoyed it, but Jim’s always been very good at making people believe him. His strongest argument was most likely the part where he shoved Sebastian against the wall and got down on his knees for him.  
  
Jim isn’t really experienced at it; he’s usually the one of the receiving end. But he _wants_ to taste Sebastian, wants to wrap his mouth around him and draw those sounds out of him, and from those sounds, Jim thinks he’s making up for his lack of experience with raw enthusiasm.  
  
As soon as he grabs one of the hands that’s tangled in his hair and moves to grip the side of his neck, Sebastian comes completely undone and gasps out “ _Richard_!”. Jim doesn’t like _that_ he decides, he’d much rather be called by his actual name, but he can’t change that.  
  
He swallows down every drop and licks Sebastian clean before tucking him back into his pants, leaving him panting against the wall with a wink and a snarky comment about how he’s made his point.  
  
He doesn’t even make it two steps away before Sebastian grabs him by the arm and twists them around, shoving Jim hard against the wall. Both Jim’s heart and his cock jump in anticipation, wanting Sebastian to try and take control from him. He isn’t really expecting what Sebastian says next.  
  
“I don’t really do the casual sex thing.”  
  
Oh.  
  
Jim doesn’t expect what comes next either. The older man pulls a biro from his shirt pocket and twists Jim’s arm up so that he can scribble a series of numbers down on it.  
  
“I’m taking you to dinner.” He lets go of Jim’s arm and steps back. “Call me when you’ve picked where you want to go.” He twists on his heel and strides out of the workshop without so much as another look back.  
  
Heart still racing, Jim isn’t sure if he’s more angry or turned on by what just happened. It’s a fairly even mix. He is absolutely bewildered by this man and the unsettling feelings he’s causing but Jim is determined to find out what’s so special about this man.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim darts around his flat, sorting out everything that needs to be done before tonight. He shoots off an email with the plans for a robbing a bank, texts coordinates to one of his men for a hit, and sends out a general message that if anyone dares to bother him within the next several hours, he’ll personally see to it that they never see tomorrow.  
  
He’s changed his outfit no less than three times now, which is _stupid_ because it doesn’t matter what he wears, he’ll still look good. But he keeps wondering if Sebastian will think he looks good and for some reason that matters, so his clothes keep getting tossed to the floor.  
  
Three additional changes later, he’s bounding out the door. He’s meeting Sebastian at a small Indian restaurant whose owner owes him back for the successful tax fraud that Jim arranged. The man knows better than to say that Jim’s been there, let alone he’s meeting someone. He understands exactly what sort of business Jim is running.  
  
Jim arrives first and he stands at the door waiting for several minutes. Then he goes inside and sits down. Then he contemplates getting up and going back outside again. He doesn’t know what the proper procedure is; he’s never actually been on a date before. (Well once, but it didn’t end well.)  
  
He’s just come to the decision that he should go back out when Sebastian walks through the doors. His brain is caught in a crossfire of _Do I stay sitting? Do I stand up?_ when the older man slips into the sear across from him and smiles. Instantly, Jim feels more at ease, even if that smiles makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach twist in knots. This is a new and unfamiliar feeling; Jim doesn’t like it and he’s never wanted to murder a metaphorical insect so badly before.  
  
Despite being apparently socially inept when he’s actually trying and not just faking it, dinner goes smoothly. They talk about their lives and how the ended up working in the show. Jim, much to his own surprise, doesn’t lie. Well, not much. He omits, really. And smudges a few details. He tells Sebastian,  
  
“My parents died when I was young, only fourteen.” But what he doesn’t say is, “My father broke my mother’s neck and I shot him six times.” Just small details.  
  
He learns that Sebastian was raised by an uncle, attended university in applied physics (Jim isn’t ashamed of how much that turns him on) and served in the military, working his way up through the ranks to colonel before retiring to come back home and try something new. Jim could have just done the research to find out all of that, but it’s somehow more interesting to hear it straight from his mouth.  
  
For reason entirely unknown, three quarters of the way through dinner, Jim blurts out,  
  
“It’s Jim.”  
  
Sebastian looks up at him in confusion. “What? Who’s Jim?”  
  
“I am. Well, James. But my friends call me Jim. Well, if I had friends who knew my actual name then I suppose they would.” _For the love of god, stop talking_ his brain yells at him. “Richard is just a stage name.” he trails off awkwardly, while his brain continues to berate him. What is it about this man that turns him into an idiot?  
  
Sebastian still looks confused and Jim can practically see him processing this information. “So Brook? Is that really your last name?”  
  
“No, it’s Moriarty.” _Why?!_ his brain shouts. _Why are you telling him this? Stop talking!_  
  
The other man takes a bite of his food, likely stalling for more time while he thinks. “So why did you change it?”  
  
Jim shrugs. “Got a bit of a history, didn’t think it would do well if the show became popular and people found out what kind of person is hosting a television show.” Technically true.  
  
“So why are you telling me?”  
  
Jim flusters a bit and tries to stammer out an answer but he can’t because he _doesn’t know why_. Sebastian just keeps grinning at him.  
  
“You’re kind of adorable when you don’t know what to say.”  
  
Jim just glares at him.  
  
Sebastian laughs and takes another bite before nodding and adding in a thoughtful voice, “James Moriarty. I rather like it. It suits you.”

  
At the end of the night, Sebastian walks Jim back to his flat. Jim kisses him goodnight (which requires Jim to push himself up onto the balls of his feet. Sebastian laughs at him and try as he might, Jim can’t actually get angry at him for it, not when he can feel Sebastian smiling against his lips) and he invites Sebastian upstairs.  
  
Sebastian gives Jim another quick kiss and shakes his head, stepping back. “No, I told you. I don’t do that. I’m going to do this the proper way.”  
  
The face Jim makes is fairly dead on impression of a fish. His cock is pretty much running things and has given his brain the night off. “…what?”  
  
Sebastian takes Jim’s hand and presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Good night, Jim.” He steps away, still smiling that maddening grin that does stupid things to Jim’s stomach, and he walks away.  
  
Jim is torn between the urge to tackle him and have his filthy way with him and the urge to shoot him in the back of the head.  
  
In the end, he does neither, but he does pause to lift his wrist and brush his lips over the spot that Sebastian touched. This man is going to be tough to figure out.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s a few weeks later and nearly twice that many meals together that Jim comes to the horrifying realization that he has a _boyfriend_. He’s not sure how to feel about that, but all signs point to ‘not good’. He’s a criminal mastermind who’s running London and he’s not supposed to have emotional attachments to anyone or anything. Especially when said emotional attachment is still refusing to put out.  
  
Somehow, despite the multiple of dates, Jim hasn’t managed to worm his way back into Sebastian’s trousers and it’s driving him mad, half because he’s incredibly horny all the time lately and isn’t getting any, and half because _why am I incapable of making him give in to me?_.  
  
It certainly isn’t that Sebastian isn’t attracted to him. He knows that well enough, if not from the fact that they keep going out, but from the fact that when they’re tangled up on Sebastian’s sofa, making out like a couple of teenagers, he can feel the older man hard against his hip. But whenever Jim’s hands start wandering towards the man’s waistline, Sebastian simply bats his hands away and goes back to that really nice thing he’s doing to Jim’s ear.  
  
He finally cracks down one night and demands an explanation. “You didn’t have a problem going home with me the first night and you certainly didn’t seem to mind when I blew you in the workshop. So why are you still refusing to even let me touch you?”  
  
Sebastian pulls Jim across his lap and nips lightly at his collarbone. “I’m waiting.”  
  
An annoyed huff is the reply from Jim, “For _what_?”  
  
Then Sebastian’s lips are at his ear, his hands on Jim’s hips pulling them closer together, his voice low and rough, “To see how long until you’ll beg for it.”  
  
Jim snorts. “If I had known that, I would have begged the first night.”  
  
Shaking his head, Sebastian replies. “Not good enough. I want to you really want it. To _need_.” That grin of his is infuriating.  
  
Laughing, Jim pushes Sebastian hard against the back of the couch. “You are a _filthy_ one, Mr. Moran, aren’t you?” He lowers his mouth to the side of Sebastian’s neck and starts to suck a line of dark bruises into the skin, murmuring between soft bites. “Please. _Please_ , I want you to fuck me. I need you to. Need to feel you. Feel you inside of me, feel you moving under me, feel the way your muscles move under your skin while I claw up your back.” Jim moves his lips to tease their way along Sebastian’s jawline.  
  
“I need to feel you between my thighs, hear you moaning my name when you come.” Jim kisses Sebastian roughly, all tongues and teeth and desperation. He pulls back to pant against the other man’s lips. “I want to feel bruises forming under your hands on my hips, my arms, _my neck_ ,” he can feel Sebastian’s breath hitch at that one, “I don’t want to be able to move tomorrow without thinking about what you did to me.” He drops his hands to Sebastian’s trousers and tries to push his hands aside, only to be have them knocked aside again by Sebastian.  
  
“Still not enough.”  
  
Jim lets out a bark of anger and both of his hands are suddenly twisted in Sebastian’s dark hair and yanking his head back, snarling against his mouth. “I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me _now_ I will have you anyway. I will tie you down and I will ride you until you buckle and beg _me_ to stop.”  
  
The second the words are out of his mouth, Jim regrets it. He’s done well so far hiding his darker side from Sebastian but he may have tipped his hand with that tirade. He closes his eyes and hopes for the best.


	5. Chapter 5

He certainly isn’t surprised to be pushed out of Sebastian’s lap for the comment but what he _is_ surprised by is the fact that Sebastian only pushes back enough to give him room to stand. He doesn’t entirely let go of Jim at any point and Jim is forced to lock his legs around Sebastian’s hips to keep from falling. Sebastian seals his mouth over Jim’s and groans into his mouth.  
  
“Now _that_ is more like it.”  
  
Jim sags against Sebastian in relief; the man thinks he’s only playing into his game. He doesn’t have any idea what he’s getting into.  
  
Stumbling slightly under the weight of Jim wrapped around him, Sebastian manages to get them from the sitting room and back to his bedroom, where he throws Jim down on the bed and smirks at him.  
  
“You going to actually remember it this time?”  
  
Jim stretches himself across the bed and gives Sebastian a smug smile in response. “If you make it memorable, I’ll consider it.”  
  
Sebastian is on him in a heartbeat, mouth at his neck, hands sliding under his shirt, over his arms, across his hips, unable to pick a single area to stop at. Jim manages to slide his hands between them and sets to work unfastening the buttons of Sebastian’s shirt, putting a valiant effort into it when his brain is trying to get him to just lay there and enjoy the feeling of Sebastian’s hands on his skin.  
  
He manages to get the last of the buttons undone and shoves the shirt off of the man’s shoulders. Sebastian sits up long enough tug Jim’s shirt over his head and in the process gives Jim the first good look at his bare chest. (That he can remember anyway). His skin is littered with scars in various places but the ones that stand out the most are three thick lines crossing diagonally across his chest.  
  
Jim gives in to his first instinct and leans up to drag his tongue along the length of the center one, drawing a shudder out of Sebastian in the process. He starts mouthing his way down one of the others, murmuring against his skin. “How’d you get them?’  
  
Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head slightly before pushing Jim back flat on the bed. He crawls up the length of Jim’s body and kisses him lightly. “Wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You kept doing that the first night though, kept licking and touching all of my scars. Have you got a scar fetish that I don’t know about?” he grins against Jim’s lips.  
  
“Well,” Jim wraps his arms around Sebastian and lightly scrapes his fingernails down the man’s back, “are we counting the fact that I want to give you a couple of my own?” He doesn’t think Sebastian has any idea of just what Jim wants to do to him. “But if we’re not, I just think they’re sexy.” Jim’s mouth wanders down Sebastian’s jaw and to a long, thin scar that creeps up his neck; the one he saw on the first day they met. “Scars mean you survived something.” He scrapes his teeth lightly over mark and feels one of Sebastian’s hands tighten on his hips.  
  
His hands slide down Sebastian’s chest, teasing and dancing across various mark, exploring the variety of patterns cut across his skin. He smirks into Sebastian’s skin when he fingers come across one line that dips down below the waistband of the man’s trousers.  
  
“Well we _have_ to find out where this one goes.” Jim slips his hand in quickly and then Sebastian’s mouth is on his again, groaning hungrily as he rolls his hips forward against Jim’s fist.  
  
Jim is contemplating the best way to get Sebastian’s trousers off when his mobile buzzes in his pocket. “Oh fuck me.”  
  
“Planning on it.” Sebastian replies, his own hands busy working Jim’s trousers open. “Ignore it.”  
  
He wants desperately to ignore his phone and focus on Sebastian’s hands which _oh god they’re down his trousers now and touching him_ but work is work and he can’t afford to neglect it.  
  
He fishes his mobile out of his pocket just before Sebastian yanks his trousers away entirely. “Sorry,” he kisses Sebastian quickly, “Work thing, only be a minute, promise.”  
  
Sebastian rolls his eyes and starts kissing his way down Jim’s chest. “What’s work want with you on a Friday night?”  
  
Oh fuck, right. Sebastian doesn’t know about his “other” job. “It’s…small thing on the side. Need the extra money.” He hits the answer button and presses it to his ear, hoping to cut off anymore questions.

  
“What?” he practically barks.  
  
The voice on the other end is frantic. A large robbery is close to going wrong and they need Jim’s help to get it back on. He gives out rapid fire instructions, trying as best he can to avoid Sebastian figuring out what he’s doing.  
  
Sebastian, meanwhile, hasn’t stopped his mouth’s exploration of Jim’s body and doesn’t bother to warn him before tugging the front of his underwear down and wrapping his mouth around Jim’s cock, sucking hard.  
  
Jim gasps loudly and barely manages not to moan into his phone. “H-hold on a second.” He pulls the phone away and clamps his his hand over the mouthpiece, glaring down at Sebastian. “I can’t decide if you’re the best or worst boyfriend _ever_ right now.” Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows and does something with his tongue that nearly makes Jim drop his mobile.  
  
He pulls the phone quickly back to his ear. “The rest of the information is in the file I sent you earlier. Call me again and I’ll have you killed.” Sebastian chuckles around him when Jim tosses the phone away and Jim is eternally grateful that most people think of death threats as an exaggeration.  
  
Sebastian pulls his mouth away long enough to glance up at Jim and comment, “You have another job?”  
  
“Mmmm, explain later. Back to what you were doing.”  
  
The larger man slithers up Jim’s body and kisses the tip of his nose. “Talking on the phone when someone is trying to do you is _very_ rude. Think you ought to be punished for it.”  
  
Jim decides right there. _Definitely_ best boyfriend ever. (Not that he has anything to compare it to.)


	6. Chapter 6

It doesn’t take much before Sebastian has Jim completely stripped bare and laid out on the bed, hands above his head and securely fastened to the headboard. Jim flexes slightly and pulls against the soft restraints, testing them.  
  
“Do you always leave these attached to your bed?” he asks.  
  
Sebastian smirks and doesn’t look up from where he’s rummaging in his bedside table. “Not usually, no. But unlike you, I remember what you liked last time.” He glances up at Jim and winks. “I’ve kept them there in preparation.” He moves back over to Jim and leans down to kiss him. “Stop smirking at me like that.”  
  
“Don’t know what you mean, you dirty old man.” Sebastian snorts and shakes his head before pulling back slightly and holding up what looks like a ball bearing in front of Jim’s face. He presses into the palm of one of Jim’s captive hands and curls the man’s fingers around it.  
  
“Drop this if you want me to stop.”  
  
Jim raises an eyebrow at him. “I can’t just tell you to?”  
  
There’s a hot and hungry look in Sebastian’s eyes when he replies, “What I’m planning to do to you, you might not be able to say anything.” He twists his head to press a very light kiss against Jim’s Adam’s apple. Immediately, Jim can feel his pulse leap and his cock twitch against his stomach as he fails to bite back a low moan.   
  
When Sebastian pulls away to retrieve something else from the drawer, Jim has a moment to realize that there’s a dark thread of fear curling in his stomach. It’s not from what he expects at all though, his body is reacting with panic to the fact that he _isn’t_ afraid of letting Sebastian restrain him. He’s let people tie him up in the past, he’s quite the fan of it, but there’s always been a tinge of fear running under his skin about the idea of letting someone else take control of him. But right now, he completely trusts Sebastian and quite frankly, that scares the hell out of him.  
  
He doesn’t have long to dwell on it before Sebastian is back on him, dropping feather-light kisses across his chest while the talented fingers of one hand twist and tease one of his nipples to hardness. Jim whimpers and rolls his hips up, but Sebastian keeps his body away enough to deny him the friction and just keeps smiling that maddening grin at him.  
  
Sebastian slips down between Jim’s legs and licks a quick stripe up the length of his cock, leaving Jim gasping and jerking against the restraints. Sebastian flips open a small tube of lube and slicks up his fingers, slowly pressing one into Jim’s body while simultaneously licking and nuzzling at the base of his cock.  
  
Jim presses his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes and groaning quietly. He can’t watch Sebastian while he does this, not if he wants to last any decent amount of time. He’s trying to control himself by running potential answers to the Riemann hypothesis in his head as Sebastian presses a second finger into him. It’s working fairly well until the other man does something that Jim doesn’t expect at all and the only coherent thought he can come up with is _oh god this is new_.

Sebastian’s tongue presses between his fingers, licking and teasing at Jim’s hole, slipping in and out of him. Jim’s never had a lover do _this_ and it’s driving him mad, leaving him a whimpering mess, writhing under Sebastian and gasping out, “ _please!_ ” unsure of whether he’s asking for more or for this new sensation to stop.   
  
He pulls away finally and slides up Jim’s body, crushing their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. “You liked that, then?” he growls against Jim’s mouth. The only reply that Jim can manage is a pitiful, needy sound before he sucks hard on Sebastian’s tongue.   
  
Jim lets out a noise of extreme displeasure when Sebastian pulls away yet again, but this time it’s only for a moment, long enough to tear open the foil packaging and roll on a condom before he’s back between Jim’s thighs. “Tell me what you want.” He mumbles against Jim’s lips.  
  
“To touch you.” Jim tugs against the restraints on his arms. As much as he usually loves to be tied up, right now all he wants is to wrap himself around Sebastian’s body and drag his nails down the man’s back.   
  
A quick kiss is pressed to the corner of his jaw. “You’re being punished, remember? You don’t get to touch.” Jim huffs in annoyance and wraps his legs fully around Sebastian’s, locking his ankles at the small of his back.  
  
“You are a bad, bad man.”   
  
“Don’t know why you sound so surprised.” Sebastian shifts his hips and uses Jim’s new angle to press himself slowly into him. Jim lets his head fall back again, sucking in a deep breath of air and tightening his legs around Sebastian.  
  
Sebastian’s mouth is at his neck, licking, biting, and sucking dark marks into the skin, hands tightening on Jim’s hips, hard enough that Jim suspects, _hopes_ , that they’ll bruise. He wastes no time in setting a rough pace, driving himself in and out of Jim’s body, taking pleasure in the way that Jim attempts to gasp his name with each thrust.  
  
The fingers of one of Jim’s hands scratch desperately at the headboard, the other still wrapped around the metal ball. He’s barely managing to get out the words, “ _please, harder, yes!_ ” when Sebastian’s hand is suddenly at his neck, cutting off his air and stopping anymore words from coming forth.  
  
He can’t breathe at all and suddenly everything feels _sharper_. Every thrust is sending overwhelming ripples of pleasure across his skin and he feels like his skin might melt from the overload. Every nerve ending is on _fire_. He’s getting dizzy and everything is too much and too sharp and too god and he can’t _breathe_. He’s seconds away from dropping the metal ball when Sebastian’s hand released him and he’s sucking in lungfuls of air like a drowning man. He nearly sobs because everything is too much, too much pleasure and his body doesn’t know how to handle it all at once.   
  
Sebastian’s mouth is on his again and his hand is between their bodies, wrapping around Jim’s painfully hard cock and stroking, bringing Jim to and over the tipping point, leaving him screaming Sebastian’s name into his mouth as he comes.   
  
Jim’s reaction is enough to push Sebastian through his own orgasm, pressing his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, with a muffled “Oh fuck, _Jim_!”

Sebastian stays laying limp across Jim for several minutes, mouthing lazily against his neck, dragging his tongue over the blossoming bruises as he tries to recover. Jim whimpers quietly under him, body over-stimulated and barely able to get his breathing under control but not wanting Sebastian to move away.  
  
This is another new feeling for him. He actually wants to _stay_. He’s always been the sort to roll out of bed as soon as possible and high-tail it out the door but right now all he wants is to stay in bed with Sebastian and map every inch of him with his mouth. The fear building in the pit of his stomach is worse than ever.   
  
A short time later, Sebastian finally manages to move himself, gingerly pulling out of Jim and rolling off to one side. He pulls off the used condom and tosses it into the wastebasket by the bed before rolling back and tugging the restraints on Jim’s wrists apart, freeing him. Jim goes boneless and slumps against the bed, too exhausted to move.   
  
He barely registers Sebastian tugging him against his chest and tucking the smaller man’s head under his chin. He snuggles himself tighter to Sebastian’s chest and the last thought he has before succumbing to sleep is that, whether Sebastian knows it or not, Jim is never planning to let him go. The man is his and Jim intends to keep him that way.


	7. Chapter 7

Things continue to sail smoothly for the next several weeks. Sebastian buys Jim’s story that he works as a freelance business and financial consultant on the side and he doesn’t push this issue any further.  
  
Jim suspected that Sebastian know he’s smarter than he lets on. He probably gave himself away the night he woke up with the answer to a formula in his head and promptly grabbed a marker to sketch the whole thing about on a sleeping Sebastian’s back. Or, he’s only sleeping through part of it.  
  
Sebastian wakes up halfway through and glances over his shoulder. “Is this some sort of geeky foreplay?”  
  
Jim shushes him and goes back to work, writing until the entire expanse of Sebastian’s back is covered with numbers and symbols. He grabs his mobile and snaps a photo of his work. As soon as he’s done, Sebastian flips them over, pinning Jim on his back and snatching the marker from his hand. He responds with a series of physics equations scrawled across Jim’s chest and even includes a rough sketch of what looks like a trajectory chart. Jim hadn’t intended for his work to end up like this, but he can’t deny how much it turns him on to have an obviously intelligent partner.  
  
By the time the sun comes up, they’re both covered in smudged ink and Sebastian is in great need of a new set of sheets.  
  
*  
  
The children’s programme is finally drawing to a close and Jim is more than a little bit relieved. It’s not that he minds the work, it’s actually rather fun at times, but he’s tired of the deeply concerned looks that he gets from the makeup artist every time that she has to cover up his bruises for the camera. She discreetly slips him a pamphlet on domestic abuse and he not so discreetly tosses it out. He doesn’t need it because he isn’t being abused and he certainly isn’t _domestic_. His mobile chirps in his pocket and it’s a message from Sebastian.  
  
 _Dinner and a film at mine tonight?_  
  
Maybe he’s a little domestic.  
  
That night, Sebastian cooks dinner while Jim sits on the sofa, computer in his lap, working on two projects at once. (He’s been banned from the kitchen ever since the morning when he tried to make them breakfast.) In one window, he’s putting the finishing touches on forged documents for a man running away to Canada and in the other, he’s arranging for Sebastian to be offered a new job.  
  
Sebastian likes to work with his hands and Jim knows a man with a carpenters’ workshop who owes him a few favors. He’s not as nasty as some of the folk who work for Jim; he only called on Jim’s services to forge the necessary paperwork to avoid being deported, and that’s why Jim deems him safe enough to hire Sebastian. The man is friendly enough, if a bit dim, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut and he’s more than willing to help Jim out from time to time.  
  
Balancing two plates of pasta in his hands, Sebastian comes into the living room and Jim snaps his computer shut, leaving it on the ground next to the sofa.  
  
“What are you working on?” he hands Jim the plates and disappears back into the kitchen.  
  
“Just helping a man moving his business overseas.” He calls. Always stick as close to the truth as possible. Sebastian returns with two glasses of wine, setting them down on the coffee table before taking his plate and adjusting himself so that Jim can curl against his side.  
  
“So you’ll be taking on this consultation thing full time then?”  
  
Jim mumbles around a mouthful of food. “That’s the plan, yea.” (It comes out sound more like ‘ass an, eh?”)

  
Sebastian wrinkles his nose at Jim. “I need to find a job in the next couple of weeks before I end up unemployed and living off of you.”  
  
“I can’t be your sugar daddy since I’m younger than you, but I’ll find it in myself to accept sexual favors in exchange for your living expenses.”  
  
“How about sexual favors _and_ food? You won’t be healthy enough to be my pseudo-sugar daddy if all you eat is burnt toast and coffee.”  
  
“I managed it for years, darling.” Jim chuckles. “But in all seriousness, I doubt t will be much trouble for you. Something will turn up, I’m certain.”  
  
“Well, on can hope at least.” Jim smiles to himself. He may not be able to tell Sebastian what he actually does for a living, but he can at least use his resources to make sure that Sebastian has everything he could need or want.


	8. Chapter 8

They are together for almost a year before anything starts to go wrong. Sebastian practically lives with him now; he rarely goes back to his own flat ever since Jim gave him a key. (And the voice in the back of Jim’s head is still demanding _Why? Why would you think that this is a good idea?_ )  
  
Sebastian loves his new job, which he believes he got on a recommendation from one of his supervisors at _Story Time_. It’s also a bonus that at the end of the day, when he comes home sweaty and smelling of sawdust, Jim can barely keep his hands to himself.  
  
Sebastian also shows a remarkable ability to handle Jim’s personality. After several months, Jim isn’t always able to keep his temper from bubbling to the surface. He merely takes Jim’s dangerous mood swings in stride, easily shutting Jim down with a sarcastic quip, an eyeroll, or occasionally by disappearing until his mood has improved. Somehow, the man is unflappably calm.  
  
The only time that Jim manages to get a rise out of him is when, in a particularly violent mood, Jim tries to hit him. His fist doesn’t even make contact before Sebastian has his wrist in a vice like grip, tight enough that Jim thinks the bone might actually snap. Sebastian slams him against a wall and presses in close, his voice low and rough.  
  
“Try it again and I’ll leave. For good.”  
  
Jim apologizes for the first time in years and doesn’t try it again. The part of the incident that bothers Jim the most is that his mind can’t figure out why the thought of Sebastian leaving scares him so much more than the possibility of having his wrist broken.  
  
He manages to keep his fists in check, but his temper still gets the best of him at times. It doesn’t take him long to notice a pattern in their behavior. The days when his temper is at its worst are days when Sebastian is at his roughest in bed. Jim still has either a safeword or the ball bearing, but it’s Sebastian’s way of pushing back.  
  
Jim thinks that he shouldn’t be so aroused by someone trying to knock him back down a peg, but there’s something incredibly sexy about a partner who’s damn near his equal and refuses to cow down to him. Not to say that Jim gives in entirely. The scratch marks he leaves down Sebastian’s back and the bite marks on his should and neck show that Jim isn’t planning on giving up every bit of control.  
  
-  
  
His attempts at hiding his job go off the rails following a botched deal. The man doesn’t like Jim’s style of negotiation and snaps, pulling a gun on him. His snipers are a split second too late in taking him down and he manages to squeeze the trigger before he collapses in a bloody heap.  
  
The bullet misses anything vital of Jim’s but grazes his thigh, causing him to go down. His team deals with the enemies swiftly and they are on him in moments, wrapping his leg with a makeshift tourniquet and bundling him off in a car. Jim passes out from blood loss before they make it back to their headquarters and stays out while two of his men patch him up.  
  
They debate what to do with him while he lays passed out on a clean hospital bed.  
  
“We should leave someone to keep an eye on him.” One of them says. “He should be fine but if he wakes up he’ll need help; we can’t risk leaving him alone.”  
  
The other thinks on it for a moment. “Let’s take him back to his place. That bodyguard of his can keep watch over him.” Some of the men who have seen Jim with Sebastian have started the rumor that he has acquired a live-in bodyguard. Rather than quash the rumor, Jim feeds it, planting the idea in their heads that Sebastian is not someone to be messed with.

  
A short while later, the men pull up in front of Jim’s block of flats. One man slips from the car and trots up the stairs, briskly knocking on Jim’s door. Sebastian opens the door with a mildly confused look written across his face.  
  
“You Mr. Moriarty’s man?” the stranger asks. They both interpret the word ‘man’ differently.  
  
“I-uh, yea. He’s not in tonight, though.”  
  
“I know that, sir.” _Sir?_ “I work for him. There’s been a bit of a mishap.” Sebastian takes the stairs down three at a time.  
  
“It’s nothing serious, only a bullet graze.” The man says and Sebastian doesn’t have time to respond that _yes_ , a bullet graze is fucking serious, because he’s too busy helping to lift Jim out of the car to get him upstairs.  
  
He’s finally being tucked into bed and hooked up to a small saline drip when Sebastian wheels on the men and demands to know what happened.  
  
“All in a day’s work, yea?” one says. They stay and talk with Sebastian for nearly forty five minutes before they depart, leaving a still unconscious Jim and a very confused and angry Sebastian behind.


	9. Chapter 9

When Jim wakes up, his head hurts and everything is fuzzy. He mumbles something incoherent into his pillow and tries to push himself up. Sebastian’s hands are on him when the room starts to spin and he’s rolled over onto his back. Pills are pressed to his lips and Sebastian cradles his head carefully while he helps Jim to drink down enough water to swallow them. The pills leave a bitter taste on his tongue and he pulls a face.  
  
“Wha’ happened?”   
  
Sebastian steps back and drops into the chair next to the bed. Jim recognizes it from the sitting room and his fuzzy mind tries to place why it’s in their bedroom.  
  
“I might ask you the same thing.” Sebastian says. Jim’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, but when he shifts on the bed, sharp pain lances up his leg and a vague memory of the night before comes back. He drops his head back against the pillow, eyes closed, breathing heavily.  
  
The drugs are messing with his head, everything is blurred around the edges and his mind is trapped in a bog, slow and sluggish and he can’t come up with _anything_ to explain a fucking gunshot wound.  
  
Sebastian leans forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers steepled under his chin. His voice is low and dry; it’s the same voice that threatened to leave him once before. “What have you gotten yourself involved in, Jim?”   
  
Jim’s jaw works open and closed. _Think. God dammit, you’re a fucking genius, think!_ “I…the man I was consulting for. He…he wanted to run a deal with a trader on the black market.” Jim hesitates, grateful his dry throat gives him an excuse to pause. “I didn’t know until it was too late. His deal went bad and…and the man snapped. He fired a shot and missed the guy. Caught me in the leg. Don’t know what happened after.” Jim’s voice takes on a desperate, pleading tone. The one that makes his natural Irish accent bleed out over his fake one and he doesn’t want to admit how much of the tone _isn’t_ faked.  
  
In the chair, Sebastian’s hands drop and the look he’s giving Jim makes the injured man want to crawl into his lap and make it better. “Are you telling me the truth? It was a one-time thing that went wrong?”  
  
Jim nods frantically. “Just the one time. I swear it, I _promise_ you, Sebastian.”  
  
Sebastian’s head drops down low and Jim can’t see his eyes. “That so? Because the men who dropped you off said this kind of thing is all in a day’s work.”  
  
 _Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck **fuck**_. Jim shakes his hand again. “They must have…must have worked for the other man. The black market dealer.”  
  
“They called you _boss_ , Jim. And they seemed to think that I was your personal bodyguard. Why would a fucking _consultant_ need a body guard?  
  
“I..I don’t..” Jim continues to shake his head, shrinking back against the pillows. For once, he doesn’t know what the fuck to _do_.   
  
“Tell me the truth, Jim.” He slams his hands down on the arms of the chair and they creak under the force of it.” Just the fucking truth!”   
  
Jim flinches back and closes his eyes. “I…” he lets out a small huff of air. “I’ve been helping a couple of men for a while. Running trade on the black market. Smuggling things in and out of the country.”   
  
“And the bodies?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“One of them said he’s take care of the bodies.”   
  
“It..it must be the ones who sho-“  
  
“He said he’s take care of them in the usual way. Why have the men working for you got a fucking _usual way_ to dispose of bodies? What the _fuck_ , Jim? What are you involved in? Do you have any idea what you’re fucking doing? What are you…some…some fucking common criminal?”  
  
Jim’s temper wins out before he can stop himself and he snaps, teeth bared in an angry snarl. “I am _not_ fucking _common_.   
  
A myriad of emotions fly across Sebastian’s face. Horror, anger, shock, betrayal, and unrestrained rage. Before Jim can react, he’s up and out of the chair and his fist is landing a powerful strike across Jim’s jaw.

  
The first coherent thought that Jim manages is that he’s grateful he’s on the bed. His head snaps roughly to one side and pain explodes behind his eyes, spreading out like wildfire and making every bone in his body rattle. He drops into a limp puddle on the bed. He isn’t strong enough to fight off Sebastian in a fair fight, let alone one where he’s injured.   
  
His mind feels like it’s been turned to slush and he can barely make out Sebastian standing over the bed, fists clenched, his whole body shaking with barely restrained rage. Jim tires to move but his body isn’t cooperating and is mouth feels numb as he tries to choke out, “…Seb…plea-“ He can’t even get out the words before Sebastian pivots on his heel, back ramrod straight and marches out the door.  
  
Jim pulls up every last bit of energy he has and forces his body up, pushing himself off the bed. The second his feet touch the floor, his injured leg buckles under him and he goes down like a rock, crashing to the floor. He's barely aware of the short, sharp pain of his IV being yanked from his hand as he falls.  
  
He can hear Sebastian’s footsteps down the hall and tries to call out, but only manages a garbled string of noises. Footsteps echo on the stairs and he manages to mumble out, face down on the floor, “Bast….bastian! Don’t…”   
  
The front door of the flat slams hard enough to rattle the walls and Jim is left alone, face pressed into the carpet, pained whimpers clawing their way out of his throat. “Don’t…don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”


	10. Chapter 10

The next time that Jim regains consciousness, his whole body aches and every muscle is a tight knot of pain. He tries to twists his head but his neck is so stiff that he has a moment of illogical panic that moving any further might break his spine. There’s blood matted on the carpet under his face and when he tries to stretch his jaw, he can feel flakes of dried blood peeling off. He thinks he must have smashed his nose when he fell but he can’t really remember it.   
  
He attempts to push himself off of the floor but his body screams in protest, begging to lay back down and succumb to the bliss of unconsciousness again. His whole body fights against him. The room swims in front of his vision and his body heaves, bile rising in the back of his throat. Jim closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to force the nausea back down. He manages to maneuver into a sitting position, propped against the bed where he can reach his mobile on the bedside table.  
  
The clock says that’s morning by now and the fact that he’s still on the floor says Sebastian never came back. His hands shake as he tries to punch out a message and it comes out sloppy. He sends it anyway.   
  
_cOme homr_  
  
His head is pounding and he can’t tell if the room is spinning or if he can just feel the rotation of the Earth now. Another quick text orders one of his medical staff to come as fast as possible. He raises one hand to fumble blindly for the bottle of painkillers he knows is on the table and manages to locate them. He twists off the cap but the tremors in his hands make it difficult to tip any out and most of them scatter across the floor. A handful survives and he palms them, swallowing them dry, ignoring the way his body fights and tries to push them back up.  
  
He stares at his phone and sends a third message, this one to follow the first.  
  
 _please. Need you_  
  
He caves in finally, gives in to the darkness edging into his vision and slips under, unconsciousness wrapping him up like a blanket.  
  
-  
He is confined to a bed for an entire week, kept unaware and therefore unable to resist by the head of his medical staff, drowning in a sea of antibiotics and sedatives. The doctor likely does it because he knows what a miserable patient Jim is on a normal day, but he has no idea of the silent voice, screaming in Jim’s head, demanding that he get up, that he find Sebastian, that he _bring him back_.   
  
When he finally surfaces again, he rushes back to the flat as fast as he can and finds exactly what he feared. His wardrobe and dresser all hang open, open like gaping, mocking mouths, showing off their half empty interiors, now holding only his own clothes. He rages around the flat, tearing everything open, looking for any evidence that says Sebastian might come back, even if it’s only with the intention of retrieving a forgotten item.  
  
Jim is out of his head with anger, at himself for getting caught, at the man who shot him, at the doctor who kept him down for a week, and at Sebastian for having the fucking nerve to leave him. He isn’t even aware of half of the things he’s doing until he comes back to himself and his furniture is smashed, the walls are dented and his knuckles are a bruised and bloody mess, decorated with chips of wood and glass.   
  
While he sits on the bathroom floor, picking out the bits with a pair of tweezers, Jim starts planning what he needs to do. He swore it months ago that he was never going to let Sebastian go and he’s not the type to break promises. He’ll get Sebastian back, even if he has to drag him back, fighting tooth and nail the entire way, just the way Jim likes it.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing that he does is try to get back into Sebastian’s flat. He waits for a text from Sebastian’s boss saying that he’s arrived at work before he slips out of his hiding spot and steals up the stairs to the flat. A quick test of his key lets him know that Sebastian’s already had the locks changed. He clearly didn’t waste any time. It’s not enough to stop him and locks a re childishly simple; he’s into the flat in under three minutes.  
  
He tiptoes into the flat has a look around. It’s strange to feel like an intruder in a flat that he knows nearly as well as his own. He moves quickly from room to room, taking in little signs of Sebastian’s current moods that give him a slight thrill of sadistic pleasure. Sebastian isn’t doing well without him.  
  
His clothes are still in haphazard piles scattered through the rooms, some in the bedroom, the sitting room, or in the bathroom. There are empty bottles of beer littering the kitchen and several half empty bottles of hard liquor and Jim knows Sebastian doesn’t drink heavily. Not at home, anyway. When he paws through the drawer in Sebastian’s bedside table, he finds various photos of the two of them crammed into the drawer, taken down from their usual positions around the flat. They’re crumpled, a little bit torn, and a couple have what appear to be singe marks around the edges, but they give Jim the satisfaction of knowing that Sebastian can’t throw them away,  
  
Jim crawls into Sebastian’s bed and curls himself into a tight ball, pressing his face into Sebastian’s pillow and taking a deep breath, missing the smell of him. He wants Sebastian back, _needs_ him back. Sebastian keeps him grounded and focused and gives him a reason to keep going every day. Some days he feels like blowing his brains out instead of dealing with all the boring, ordinary people on a daily basis. Spinning his webs keeps him entertained and able to deal with all of them but it doesn’t give him a reason to _want_ to stay the way Sebastian does.  
  
He’ll just have to bring him back. He’ll try it the nice way first, convince Sebastian that his way of living is a _good_ one. It’s fun and exhilarating and it could be so much better if he had Sebastian at his side. He knows what Sebastian used to do in his military days and it makes his pulse leap to imagine Sebastian with a gun in his hands. He may have a remarkable hold on his temper, but Sebastian is a hunter through and through and Jim wants to watch him hunt.  
  
He presses his face tighter into Sebastian’s pillow, heart racing at the mental image of Sebastian shooting for him, _killing_ for him. He pushes the feeling down. This isn’t the time to be getting frisky in Sebastian’s bed. He needs to get back out and start working on his backup plan. The one he’ll resort to if he can’t convince Sebastian to come to him.  
  
He doesn’t want to have to use his fall back plan, but he’s not willing to let Sebastian go for anything. He doesn’t have a set plan yet, but he’s well-versed in how to break someone down completely; he only needs to continue research how to rebuild someone properly. He’s fascinated by conditioning. It makes him a little sad to think about. He doesn’t want to lose Sebastian’s dominant personality, but it will likely fall victim to any conditioning routine Jim chooses. It’s just a sacrifice he’ll have to make.


	12. Chapter 12

Jim follows him home from work once or twice (every day for two weeks) before he makes a move. It has to be perfect and he doesn’t want to mess it up. When he finally decides it’s time, Sebastian has ducked down an alley between two buildings and Jim steps out of the shadows to block his way out of the far end.  
  
Sebastian gives a start when he sees him and sets his shoulders, lifting his chin slightly. “Jim. Haven’t seen you around. You’re dressed up quite a bit.” He rakes his eyes up and down Jim’s form; he’s wearing one of his suits instead of the jeans and shirt he generally wears around Sebastian.  
  
“I’m dressed for work today.” Jim slips his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels, silently enjoying the way that Sebastian’s eyes are moving over his body.  
  
“Ah, right. Your “job”,” Sebastian draws finger quotes in the air, “The one I didn’t know about. This how you normally dress for work? And you what, changed before you got home?”  
  
Jim shrugs his shoulders. “I did what I had to do.”  
  
Sebastian fixes him with a hard look. “Why are you here? I told you I was done with you.”  
  
“Actually, you punched me in the face and then left me.” He rolls up on to the balls of his feet. “Technically we never broke up. But I’m here because I followed you from work.”  
  
“That’s great, Jim. Charming. You done?”  
  
“I haven’t even started, dear.”  
  
“Don’t call me that.”  
  
Jim immediately drops flat to his feet and his face darkens. “No? Just a few weeks ago, you were in my bed and practically living with me. Now I can’t even call you darling?”  
  
“A few weeks ago, you weren’t a fucking criminal, Jim!” Sebastian snaps. His usually even temper can’t hold under the rage that’s been boiling just under the surface for weeks,  
  
“Yes, I was, Sebastian! Just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening!”  
  
“Oh right, thanks, because _that_ makes me feel a lot better about it! Let’s talk about all this shit you were pulling behind my back!”  
  
“You didn’t seem to mind it when it was benefitting you.”  
  
Sebastian narrows his eyes and practically growls at him. “And how was your fucking crime spree benefitting me?”  
  
Jim replies with a sideways grin and an expression of feigned innocence. “Oh, I don’t know. Wait yes, I do. Every time I paid for something, every time you stayed in my flat, which was funded by my work, anytime I got us tickets to a show using acquaintances I’ve acquired through my work, and oh right, when you got a job.”  
  
“What the- my _job_?”  
  
Jim steps forward, closing the space between them. “I took care of some… little problems your boss had a few years ago. He owed me a favor.”  
  
“You, jesus Christ, Jim, is there any part of my fucking life that you _haven’t_ lied to me about?”  
  
Jim’s head snaps up and he moves directly into Sebastian’s space, no longer bothering with his slow approach. “I avoided lying to you as often as possible. I told you the truth when I could.”  
  
Teeth bared in an angry snarl, Sebastian snaps back. “Every damn thing you’ve told me is a lie. Our entire fucking relationship!”  
  
“ _No_.” Jim insists. “No. I _never_ lied to you about that. I never lied about how I felt about you.” He lifts his hands and touches Sebastian’s jaw line lightly. “I want you back, Sebastian. I _need_ you with me.”  
  
Sebastian jerks his head away and steps back. “I don’t want a damn thing to do with you, Jim. I’m not like you. From what I learned from those men, you’re not above killing for the hell of it, for _fun_.”  
  
“Well, not for fun.” Jim shrugs. “For the money. The fun part’s just working out how to not get caught.” The look on Sebastian’s face tells Jim that this probably wasn’t the best thing to say.  
  
“You’re fucking insane, Jim.”  
  
“I can’t really argue with that part.”  
  
“Stay away from me, Jim. I mean it. I will go to the police if I have to.”

  
Jim grins and bounces up on the balls of his feet again. “No, you won’t.”  
  
Sebastian gives him a dark look. “And what makes you so sure of that?”  
  
Jim tilts his head to one side, the expression of innocence looking out of place on his face. “Because, no matter what you say, you still care about me. And you might go to the police eventually, but you won’t until I really push you.” He pauses and glances to one side, as if talking to himself more than to Sebastian. “That and I _own_ this city. They won’t find me if I don’t want them to. It won’t do you any good.”  
  
  
“I don’t love you, Jim.”  
  
The smaller man’s face splits into a wide grin. “I didn’t say that you did.” He rushes forward suddenly, back into Sebastian’s space and pushes himself up onto his toes, pressing a hard, quick kiss to Sebastian’s mouth before backing up and dancing out of Sebastian’s reach as the man strikes out.  
  
“I love you too, Sebastian. And I’m going to find a way to get you back.”  
  
Sebastian shakes his head, his face defiant. “I’m not coming back to you, Jim. Never. Do you understand me?” Sebastian backs up several steps before turning sharply and exiting the alley from the direction he’d come.  
  
“You’ll be back darling!” Jim calls before his voice drops. “One way or another, you’ll be back, I guarantee it.”


	13. Chapter 13

  
Jim doesn’t stop following Sebastian on a daily basis, but he does stop himself from approaching him again. He knows Sebastian sees him out of the corner of his eyes, but as soon as the man spots him, Jim ducks away and hides until he’s moved on.  
  
He keeps an eye on what Sebastian does, where he shops and what catches his eye. Jim sends Sebastian small presents, leaving them on his doorstep, in his flat, in his locker at work. He leaves books, a pair of gloves Sebastian wrinkled his nose after seeing the price, sometimes flowers, sometimes lunches when he sees that Sebastian hasn’t brought one to work. Sebastian even comes home one day to find a cardboard box sitting in his living room with a tiny orange and black kitten staring up at him from it, mewing pitifully. It’s got a little red bow tied around its neck and a hand written card is stuck in the box.  
  
 _I managed to smuggle a tiger in, but couldn’t find a way for you to hide it. This will just have to do_  
  
Sebastian looks back and forth between the card and the kitten, who is pawing at his knee, still mewing to be picked up. He stares at it incredulously before snorting, unable to stop himself from laughing.  
  
“He’s _actually_ fucking insane.” His phone buzzes in his pocket.  
  
 _Good to know I can still make you smile. –JM_  
  
Sebastian scowls at his phone and glares around the room, wondering how Jim can see him. He tosses the card down in the box and scoops up the stupidly tiny kitten, tucking it under his arm and carrying it into the kitchen. He opens a can of tuna and pours out a small amount of milk for the kitten, because that’s what the television says kittens eat, all the while muttering about crazy fucks of ex-boyfriends.  
  
-  
  
It’s one of Jim’s gifts a few days later that has a much greater impact on Sebastian and it’s exactly what Jim hopes for.   
  
The package arrives at his front door, carried by a well-dressed young woman with a dark look in her eyes that nearly sends a shiver down Sebastian’s spine.   
  
“From Mr. Moriarty.” She says and hands him the package, a heavy box wrapped in brown paper, before nodding her head and leaving him standing at the door, staring after her in confusion.  
  
He carries the package back into his kitchen, testing the weight in his hands. He picks Sher Khan up from the table, ignoring his squeaked meow of protest, and deposits him on the floor, replacing his spot with the box.  
Sebastian slides his fingers carefully under the folds of the paper, and tugs it free from the tape. He doesn’t know what Jim’s up to and he sees no harm in being too careful. He peels the paper away and slips his fingers under the flap of the cardboard box, tugging it open.  
  
Inside of the box is a smaller, hard silver case with a handwritten card on top, just like the one included in the kitten’s box. Only three words are printed on it.  
  
 _Day we met_  
  
He rolls his eyes and drops the card on the wrapping paper. He lifts the case slowly from the box and turns it over in his hands. It’s a solid, heavy weight in his hands and it doesn’t make a sound when he shakes it gently. There’s a combination lock on the front and Sebastian glances briefly to the card before twisting the numbers to the date he started working on _Story Time_. He certainly does not think about what Jim looked like in a cardigan and glasses, staring at him slack jawed.

  
The lock clicks open and Sebastian flips the latches, lifting the lid of the case. His jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. His fingers trace over the outline of it with something near reverence, not quite sure if he should be touching it. He gives in and lifts it carefully from the case, turning it slowly in his hands, feeling the weight of it against his palm.   
  
Jim shouldn’t have sent him this. Jim shouldn’t have sent him this and he shouldn’t be touching it, but he can’t quite bring himself to put it back down. It feels so familiar, so right, so good, and he wants to know what it would be like to use it. Something like this isn’t meant to sit in a locked box, it’s meant to be used; it’s like an animal that shouldn’t be restrained in a cage. It feels almost as if it’s alive in his hand and he thinks, for one moment, that he’d like to-  
  
Sebastian drops it back into the case and slams the lid shut, breathing hard. It needs to go back to Jim. He needs to get rid of it and give it back to Jim _now_.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New warnings added.

  
Sebastian prowls into his sitting room and spins in a full circle, not sure where to look, but knowing that Jim can somehow see him. “Jim! Fucking- James Moriarty! I know you can fucking hear me!” His mobile buzzes.  
  
 _Did you like my gift, then? –JM_  
  
He snarls at his phone and throws it across the room. “You come out here right the fuck now and take this damn thing away! I don’t want it! Don’t send one of your messengers or sneak it away in the night, come and get it _now_.”  
  
The flat is silent except for the sounds of the kitten violently attacking the wrapping paper. Somewhere in the back of his mind, behind all the anger, Sebastian thinks the kitten takes after Jim. He picks up the shattered remains of his phone and throws them away. It’s not a big deal; it isn’t the first phone he’s broken and it certainly won’t be the last.  
  
He drops himself into one of the chairs in the kitchen and stares at the case. He doesn’t open it again, doesn’t want to risk looking at the thing. It _shouldn’t be here_. There’s a sharp rap at his door and Sebastian is up and crossing the flat in a heartbeat. When he yanks the door open, there’s a post-it note stuck to the door reading simply,  
  
 _Come and play_  
  
Sebastian scowls down at the note, cursing the day Jim was born under his breath. He makes his decision quickly. He grabs _it_ and takes it with him; it can’t stay in the flat. It needs to be gotten rid of. He shoves it into the waist band of his trousers and pulls his jacket closed over it.  
  
Outside on the street, the sun has already gone down and everything is lit up with an eerie orange glow. Sebastian reluctantly follows a trail of post-it notes, leading him down roads and around corners until he finds himself back in the alleyway where he last saw Jim.  
  
Jim stands at the far end with that same damned Cheshire cat grin on his face. “Did you like it, then? I got it just for you.” He slinks forward like a predator, voice practically a purr. “I thought it would suit you.”  
  
Sebastian grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and twists them to the side, slamming Jim against the wall. Jim’s mind flashes briefly back to the night when he hit Sebastian, the night when he realized that losing Sebastian was worse than any physical injury he could incur.  
  
“Why did you give it to me?” Sebastian snaps and Jim can feel the man’s breath against his lips, wants to drink him in and swallow him down. “I don’t want it, take it back.” Jim’s eyes rake up and down Sebastian’s frame, mentally recalling every detail of the man’s bare skin.  
  
“I gave it to you because it fit you. Subtle, blunt, powerful, _violent._ ”  
  
“That is _not_ me.”  
“Isn’t it? You forget how well I know you, Seb. I _know_ what’s crawling underneath that calm exterior of yours. There have been enough dents in my walls and enough bruises on my skin to learn that.” Jim tries to push forward against Sebastian, but he’s pressed back against the wall.  
  
“There’s a difference between what I like to do in the bedroom and what you do for a living, Jim. A _huge_ fucking difference.”  
  
“Is there really?” Jim lifts his hands and gestures at Sebastian’s tight grip on him. “Doesn’t look like we’re in the bedroom now.”  
  
Sebastian growls, actually _growls_ , low and threatening as he pushes farther into Jim’s space. “This is _your_ fault. _You_ make me do this.”  
  
Jim leans forward, his lips less than an inch from Sebastian’s and he pushes down the urge to just try and kiss the man into submission. He smirks up at him and replies, voice light and teasing. “And I could make you do so. much. worse.”  
  
There’s a brief moment when Sebastian’s breath is hot against his mouth and it feels like just another bedroom game that Jim thinks Sebastian will cave, will _break_ for him right there, give in to him and press his lips to Jim’s and be _his_. The moment passes and Sebastian jerks away roughly, leaving Jim slumped against the wall, cold and unsatisfied.  
  
“You don’t know me at all, Jim. So stop acting like you fucking do.” Sebastian backs away, putting as much space between them as he can in the narrow width of the alley.

  
“No?” Jim asks, straightening his suit and brushing imaginary flecks of lint from his shoulders. “I know the way your fingers twitch where fights break out in pubs and how you look for an excuse to get involved in it.” His eyes drop down to Sebastian’s groin with a filthy look. “I know the way you try to inconspicuously cross your legs during violent films, Sebastian, especially the ones with torture, the gorier the better. I know the way you bite your lip and curl your fingers around the arm of your chair and hope I don’t notice.”  
  
He’s back in Sebastian’s personal space, crowding the man against the opposite wall, not letting him take the upper hand. Jim makes no pretense of hiding the fact that he is watching Sebastian’s lips, licking his own slowly. “I know the way you fuck me harder when you come home from playing a game of rugby, your blood boiling for an outlet. It’s the violence of it all. You get off on it.” He bounces up on his toes. “It’s one of the reasons that I love you.” He presses his lips to Sebastian’s before he can react.  
  
Sebastian draws in a sharp breath of air and for a moment, Jim thinks he might return the kiss. There’s something hard pressing against his stomach and he doesn’t know if it’s his gift or Sebastian but everything feels so good and so right and he wants to have Sebastian right now and-  
  
Sebastian shoves him away roughly and Jim finds himself unexpectedly staring down the barrel of the gun.  
  
“Stop. Doing. This.” Sebastian growls out between gritted teeth.  
  
A part of Jim suspects that he was born without the instinct for self-preservation as he leans forward and nuzzles the barrel against his cheek. “See what I mean?” The gun shifts slightly in Sebastian’s palm, pressing more firmly against Jim’s face. The hard metal is warm from Sebastian’s body heat and Jim imagines the way it looks tucked into the front of his trousers and he can’t stop himself. A slight twist of the head and he drags his tongue along the barrel.  
  
Before he can lose himself in the fantasies of what he’d like to be doing on his knees right now, he’s twisted around and shoved back against the wall, one of Sebastian’s hands on his throat. It almost feels like coming home.  
  
The barrel of the gun is pressed against his mouth and there isn’t a moment of hesitation before Jim parts his lips and wraps them around the gun, a quiet moan of delight slipping out around the metal. His eyes close and he sucks hard, the hand on his throat tightening, as lips slide across the metal, the taste of gun oil on his tongue and the thought that he should probably find out if the gun is loaded no where near his mind.  
  
The sound that he makes when it’s pulled free is pitiful and Jim would be ashamed of himself if his brain wasn’t at the point of arousal where any ounce of self-respect is thrown out the window in favor of _please, more_. Sebastian’s breathing is ragged and the look on his face makes Jim feel like he could come right in his trousers from that alone. It’s dark and anger and lust and it’s for _him_.  
  
“Get on your fucking knees.” Comes out, rough and angry and delicious, like sandpaper dipped in chocolate. Jim hits the ground like a lead weight and the pistol is back in his mouth, being thrust between damp swollen lips. He moans loudly, mouth working hungrily at the metal, imagining that it’s Sebastian’s cock, hard and heavy for him.  
  
Sebastian’s hand is fisted tight in Jim’s hair, holding him in place while he fucks the man’s mouth with the gun. The sounds Jim is making are desperate, moans punctuated by breathy gasps and the man has never looked so appealing before. It makes Sebastian dizzy to think he’s got this man, this apparently powerful _criminal_ on his knees and panting like a bitch in heat.  
  
Jim glances up, eyes dark and needy with a spark of the insanity Sebastian suspects him of. In that moment, when Jim looks at him, all Sebastian can focus on are his eyelashes, dark and full and the cause of many occurrences of Sebastian teasing his lover for his “girlish lashes”. The memory of such overwhelming domesticity pulls his lust-addled brain out of its fog and he yanks the gun free of Jim’s talented mouth.

  
The noise of displeasure Jim makes is nothing compared to the short bark of pain he lets out when Sebastian swings the pistol without warning, crashing it against Jim’s temple with a low ‘thud’. He crumples like a puppet with its strings cut, landing on the concrete in a boneless pile. He clings to consciousness, but the world is spinning and all of the blood in his body is currently too preoccupied with his cock to actually route any of it back to his brain.  
  
Sebastian doubles over, hands on his knees, holding himself up on unsteady limbs. He closes his eyes and doesn’t look at Jim, sprawled out on the ground. “I told you. I said I didn’t want you.” Jim can’t see him from his position but he hears a single footstep away. Then another. Then the sound of heavy feet running.  
  
He doesn’t pull himself up immediately, partially because of the pain thrumming in his head and partially because he doesn’t think he’d be able to walk in his state anyway. When he manages to pull himself into a sitting position, he glances around and allows himself a smug smile. No sign of the gun in the alleyway.  
  
He knew Sebastian would like his present.  
  
-  
  
Back in his flat, with the gun locked firmly in its case and hidden away beneath loose floorboards, Sebastian strokes himself off in the shower and tries to convince himself that he is _not_ getting off to the thought of how rough Jim’s voice will be for the next few days.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning that Jim engages in some behavior that's a little dub-con-ish torwards the end.

  
The gifts don’t stop coming and, if anything, they increase in frequency. The first one that comes after “that night” as Sebastian refers to it in his head, is a new mobile phone. It arrives in his locker at work one day, fully charged and with an unread message in the inbox.  
  
 _Can’t send you love letters if you have no mailbox –JM_  
  
He curses at the phone and considers throwing it away. But it really is a nice model and he does need a new one. Jim would find a way to contact him even if he bought his own phone and changed his number, so he slips it into his pocket and doesn’t think about it again.   
  
When he comes home from work, where he still works despite his misgiving about his boss because he can’t find another job, he finds that Sher Khan has a new catnip mouse that he’s chasing around the sitting room and there’s a case of beer on the table with a note.  
  
 _Hope you had a nice day at work! <3_  
  
Sebastian tosses the beer in the bin and tries to wrestle the toy away from the kitten, soon followed by applying antiseptic and a plaster to the tiny scratches across the back of his hand.   
  
He ignores the messengers who come directly to his door and when they leave their packages for him to find, he drops them right in the bin. He doesn’t open anymore of them and he forces himself not to pull the gun from its hiding spot to touch it. He doesn’t, or at least tries not to imagine Jim on his knees with a ring of bruises around his neck.  
  
It doesn’t take Jim long to realize that his gifts are being ignored and he starts turning up in person. He comes home to find Jim lounging on his sofa watching the telly, sitting at the kitchen table while waiting for the kettle to boil, or sitting on the floor of various rooms, dragging a bit of yarn for Sher Khan to chase.   
  
Each time, he looks up at Sebastian with that stupid grin, says hello, good morning, good evening, and acts like nothing is unusual about it. And each time he bodily removes Jim from the flat, grabbing him by the wrist, neck, waist, and dragging him to the door. He steadfastly ignores the way that Jim wriggles against him and the noises he makes when Sebastian’s fingers dig into his skin.   
  
At one point, Jim even breaks into his flat in the middle of the night and Sebastian wakes up with the man wrapped around him like an octopus. His sleep muddled brain doesn’t even realize that there is something off about this until he’s sucking on Jim’s tongue and has the man’s trousers halfway down his thighs. When his mind snaps back to full awareness, it takes all of his willpower to pull back and not sink his teeth into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, to not pin Jim’s hands above his head, to not throw all caution to the wind and fuck the man into the mattress, make him scream Sebastian’s name until he’s hoarse. He forces himself to toss the man out yet again and Jim just grins at him the whole time.  
  
Jim loves every second of their game. He hasn’t succeeded in getting Sebastian back yet but the effort of trying to win is half the fun. He likes finding the ways to break the various locks that Sebastian installs, likes the way it takes Sebastian several moments to remember that Jim isn’t supposed to be there, and loves the new bruises that appear under his skin almost every day after Sebastian touches him.  
  
It’s all a game of chase and he knows it. It won’t take him much longer until he’s got Sebastian back in his bed permanently. He knows he has Sebastian right on the edge and he just needs to find the right way to tip him over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've reached the point that is pre-written, which means updates will be a /little/ bit slower. Not much, I generally write a chapter every other day and we're almost at the end anyway, so don't worry!


	16. Chapter 16

One day, Sebastian thinks to himself, he is going to stop putting up with Jim’s behavior and just snap the man’s neck. He is somewhat horrified to realize that, when he leaves work, a part of him is excited to see what damage Jim has done to his locks today, where he’ll be at in the flat, and where Sebastian will be able to catch him to toss him out.  
  
He’s _actually_ looking forward to finding a homicidal psychopath in his flat and that scares the shit out of him. He’s getting some sort of sick thrill out of this twisted game that Jim is playing with him and he knows that he needs to stop. He just can’t bring himself to actually do it.   
  
Jim’s behavior is getting worse than ever, because he’s started a new habit that drives Sebastian to madness because he _can’t_ react to it in his normal way. He’s taken to popping up when Sebastian is out taking care of errands, turning up in jeans and a jumper, sidling up to him at the shops and slipping his hand into Sebastian’s like it’s perfectly normal. Sebastian can tug his hand away and ignore Jim but he can’t knock the man into the nearest shelf like he really wants to.   
  
On one occasion, Sebastian drops into a small café for his lunch break and Jim, naturally, appears from nowhere and drops himself into the seat opposite him, asking how his day was. Sebastian can’t punch him in the face and he doesn’t want to make a scene, so he settles for dumping salt into Jim’s coffee when he isn’t looking. The horrified look on Jim’s face and the ensuing frantic spluttering give him a sadistic thrill, especially when Jim’s expression shifts, recovering to the nastiest glare that Sebastian’s ever received from anyone. It makes one part of his mind want to crawl into a dark hole and never come out again, while the other part wants to pin Jim down and fuck the expression right off of his face.   
  
That line of though just leads to him imagining whether he’d prefer to bend Jim over the nearest surface or if he’d rather literally fuck his face. He swears Jim can reads his thoughts from the smirk that has crept onto his face so he throws down a few bills onto the table and leaves as fast as he can. He hates that Jim draws this out of him, makes him want to actually act on all of his violent impulses instead of pushing them down like he’s been doing for years.   
  
He can’t even blame it entirely on Jim, not when he’s deliberately walking into so many of the man’s traps. Today especially. When he arrives at home, there’s a post-it note (and how does Jim find them in such hideous colors?) stuck to his door with an address scribbled on it.  
  
 _Could use your help. Could be dangerous  
Wear something nice._  
  
Before he even really thinks about it, he’s slipped into the one suit he owns and he’s back down on the street and hailing a cab to take him to the address.   
  
It’s fairly non-descript, nothing special as far as buildings go and a sign on the door declares it to belong to some sort of real estate office. He hovers outside the door, not sure of where to go when Jim materializes next to him. He’s wearing another of those damned suits and Sebastian _hates_ them more than he can describe, because _his_ Jim doesn’t wear suits, _his_ Jim wears ratty denims and old t-shirts that have been appropriated from Sebastian’s dresser.  
  
“Walk in like you own the place and no one will stop you.” Jim says under his breath before moving past him to pull open the door of the building, not even looking back to make sure that he followed.  
  
Sebastian gives himself a moment of self-loathing before starting forward, following Jim as he practically struts across the lobby of the building, heading for the lifts. Jim is perfectly right in his theory and no one so much as glances up to see who they are or if they’re even supposed to be here.  
  
As soon as the doors slide shut behind them, Sebastian hisses at Jim. “What are we doing here? What am _I_ doing here?”  
  
Jim steps in front of him and adjusts Sebastian’s tie, ignoring the taller man’s attempts to bat his hands away. “I am here to take care of business. You are here,” he uses his grip on the tie to pull Sebastian down closer, “because you can’t say no to me.”

  
He jerks back and snarls. “That’s bullshit.” Jim just raises his eyebrows and tilts his head from side to side in a gesture that clearly says ‘and here you are’. The lift lets out a ‘ping’ and the doors slide open. Jim backs out the door with that insufferable grin on his face before twisting on the ball of his foot and sauntering off.  
  
His feet propel him forward and he follows Jim down the hall and up an additional flight of stairs. They emerge on a rooftop and Sebastian glances around. He starts to ask what they’re doing and his breath catches in his throat.  
  
Mounted on a tripod near the edge of the roof is a rifle, from the looks of it, an L115A3 rifle like the one he used during his days in the SAS. His fingers itch to touch it, to feel the weight of it in his hands, feel the raw power of it, pull the tri-  
  
“What. Are We. Doing. Here?” he growls out between clenched teeth. This is another one of Jim’s games and if Jim isn’t careful, he’s going to get hurt this time and not quite in the way he enjoys.  
  
“I told you, ‘Bastian. I’m here on business.” The smirk on his face repeats his early assessment of Sebastian’s presence without needing to say it. “I’ve got a little problem that needs to be taken care of and all of my men were otherwise occupied today. Thought you could do it for me.”  
  
“I am _not_ going t-“  
  
“Oh don’t be like that. Just take a step up, touch the poor dear. She probably hasn’t ever been handled by anyone who’s had actual training.” Sebastian keeps his fists balled tightly at his sides, not trusting them to try and reach for the weapon. He wants to touch it, hold it, use it- and why can’t he control himself around Jim?  
  
Before he’s aware, Sebastian steps forward and crouches slightly next to the tripod, fingertips running lightly, reverently over the length of the weapon. He tilts his head to look through the scope, aimed currently at a window two stories down. It’s another office building and currently between the crosshairs is a well-dressed, middle aged man bent over his desk and typing furiously. He takes a slow, deep breath and pulls his hands back. “Who’s the poor sod that you’re after?”  
  
Jim slips his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Name is McGann. Embezzled something close to fifty thousand pounds from his company, used the money to buy out the company, and, to top it all off, had an affair with the former owner’s wife.” Jim grins. “People are so adorable. But now the former owner wants revenge and that’s where I, and you, come in. McGann dies, we get the money and we continue to live in the sort of life to which we’ve grown accustomed.”  
  
“I’m just fine where I am, thanks.” Sebastian snaps. Jim slinks over to him like a predator after weakened prey.  
  
“But you could be so much better. So much _more_. You’re bored with your life, Sebastian. I know you are. You like working and cooking and watching crap telly, but it’s not enough is it? You miss the action of being in the military, miss the power you felt, miss the way your heart makes your blood pound in your ears after you’ve made a successful shot. This life _isn’t enough_.” He’s directly in front of Sebastian now and he rolls himself up onto his toes. His lips brush just barely against Sebastian’s earlobe and his voice is a low whisper. “Make the shot. Work with me. Be something _more_ , Sebastian.”   
  
Sebastian twists his head sharply and catches Jim’s mouth with his, growling as he bites and licks his way past Jim’s lips. His fingers twist roughly into Jim’s hair, holding him tightly in place, not letting him move as his mouth continues its assault on Jim’s. He can barely breathe, but he doesn’t care. He wants Jim, wants _this_ , wants to devour Jim whole and tear him apart for what he’s doing and wants to join him and help him burn the world down around them.   
  
He shoves Jim away and they’re both panting for air in ragged gasps; Jim sways slightly on his feet like he might pass out at any moment. It’s less than two steps to the gun and his hands already know the motions of removing it from the tripod, lifting it to his shoulder, cheek against the stock, hands in correct positions, adjust stance, eye down the sight, line up the crosshairs, _squeeze_.

  
The man in the office drops forward onto his desk, a neat hole in his head, a dark puddle slowly forming on the surface around him.  
  
Sebastian slowly lowers the gun. Every nerve in his body is vibrating, a combination of thrill, fear, satisfaction, horror, and excitement. Beside him, Jim practically explodes with delight and launches himself forward, crushing his mouth to Sebastian’s with unconcealed glee. Sebastian jerks back and lands a solid punch across Jim’s face.  
  
“I’ve got a fucking loaded gun in my hands, don’t fucking jump at me like that!”

  
Jim just laughs and brushes his hand across his face, checking for blood. “Not the face, dear. I have appearances to keep up, you know.”  
  
He ignores Jim and returns his attention to the weapon in his hands. He just killed someone. An unarmed civilian. For no reason other than because Jim wanted him to. Shit. What frightens Sebastian the most is the plain and simple fact that he does not. feel. bad. No guilt, no shame, no anything. He feels…good. Like his skin is on fire. The only concern is has is whether he’s going to be caught or not.  
  
“What do we…”  
  
“Cleanup team is already on the way. They’ll take care of the gun and making sure there’s no way to link you to it.”  
  
“Good.” Nothing to worry about, then. Jim has been doing this for years and he hasn’t ever been caught. That just leaves the matter of the fire in his skin and how much he wants to burn Jim. He sets the rifle down carefully on the tripod and crosses quickly to grab Jim. He yanks the man hard against his chest, one hand gripping his hair tightly, the other at Jim’s throat.  
  
“We.” His voice is low and commanding. Jim doesn’t get a say in this; this is an _order_. “Are going home now. And I am going to have you.” His grip tightens in his hair and he pulls Jim’s head back so that’s he forced to meet Sebastian’s eyes. “And I am going to fuck you so hard, that you won’t move for weeks without feeling me.”  
  
The smile spreads across Jim’s face like oil. “Promises, promises, colonel.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote that one faster than I thought I would!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Warnings added.

Sebastian steers Jim down the flight of stairs and back to the lift, gripping the back of his neck tightly the entire time like a collar. Inside the lift, Jim’s hand is down the front of his trousers and his mouth is at Sebastian’s jaw. Sebastian shoves him off and slams him into the wall, pinning him in place. Jim is _not_ in control now and Sebastian isn’t going to let him do a damn thing without permission.   
  
He releases Jim when the reach the ground floor and together they stride across his lobby of the building and out the door like they haven’t just murdered someone on the rooftop. They hail a taxicab and Sebastian practically throws Jim into it. Inside, Jim’s hands try to creep into Sebastian’s lap only to be shoved away again.   
  
Once he finally realizes that his advances aren’t working, Jim switches tactics, leaning in to Sebastian’s ear and hissing out all of the things that he wants Sebastian to do to him. He doesn’t stop rattling off his list until Sebastian drops his hands between the man’s legs and squeezes. _Hard_. Jim cuts off with what he will forever deny is a squeak.   
  
Sebastian turns and nips hard at Jim’s earlobe. “I’ll do to you whatever I damn well please.” Jim nods silently but the unmasked _want_ in his eyes sends threads of pleasure straight to Sebastian’s cock. When the cab pulls up to his flat, Sebastian throws several bills into the front seat and doesn’t bother to wait for his change. He drags Jim out of the cab and into the flat.  
  
As soon as he kicks the door shut, Sebastian has Jim up against the wall, covering the smaller body with his own, forcing his tongue between Jim’s lips and pushing his hands into the man’s hair. Jim presses against him, rocking up, grinding himself against Sebastian’s thigh, making desperate hungry noises into his mouth.  
  
Just as soon as he starts, Sebastian pulls away and drags Jim by the wrist towards the bedroom, fingers tight enough to bruise but that’s really the point. He jerks Jim in front of him and shoves him onto the bed.  
  
“Shoes and socks off, then put your hands on the headboard, and don’t _fucking_ move.” He follows orders with surprising efficiency and flops down on his back, hands gripping the headboard tightly.  
  
“Not going to make me take the rest of my clothes off?” he drags his tongue over his teeth, watching Sebastian shrug out of his suit jacket and drop it over the back of a chair.  
  
“No.” Sebastian reaches to the waistband of his trousers and pulls out the switchblade he’d stuck here as an earlier precaution. “I hate that fucking suit and I am going to destroy it.” Jim’s face twists in a snarl and he makes a move to sit up; Sebastian is on him in a second, straddling the man’s hips and pressing the blade of the knife against his jaw.  
  
“Take your hands off the headboard again without permission and I’ll cut.”  
  
Jim freezes and his eyes glance down to the blade against his skin. He doesn’t know how to react to this. This is new; this is _different_. He slowly sinks back down, hands returning to their previous position.  
  
Sebastian drags the flat of the blade against Jim’s skin and purrs, “Good boy. Now,” he grabs a fistful of Jim’s shirt and slices the knife easily down the length it, by passing the need to bother with the button. He pushes the halves of the shift open and presses his palm against Jim’s chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall. “Scared?”   
  
Jim juts his chin out and bares his teeth, challenging him. Sebastian grins right back and slides his fingers up the length of Jim’s tie. “I think we’ll leave this on, though.” He tugs on it, tightening it fractionally. “Could be useful.” His next few cuts are very slow and deliberate, shredding the material around Jim’s arms while taking care not to touch the skin beneath. Jim’s eyes follow his every movement, breath still coming in ragged pants. Sebastian decides that he likes this look on Jim very much. This nearly helpless, absolutely fascinated look that says Jim is turned on and _scared_ by it.

  
He yanks away the tattered of Jim’s shirt and jacket and tosses them to the floor, not carrying where they land. He presses the tip of the knife to the hollow of Jim’s neck. Jim tilts his head back and makes a small sound, a _whimper_ , and his whole body tenses, going completely still. Sebastian slowly drags the blade down Jim’s sternum, not enough pressure to cut, just enough to threaten. The knife continues its trip down across Jim’s stomach, skirting around his navel and tracing the dark trail of hair that disappears into the waistband of his trousers.  
  
A quick glance at Jim shows him that the man has twisted his head to one side, pushing his face against the pillow, eyes shut. Sebastian smirks and runs one hand up the inside of Jim’s thigh and presses the heel of his palm against the bulge between his legs. Jim lets out a sharp hiss and spreads his legs, rolling his hips up, seeking more friction against his aching cock. Sebastian takes the opportunity to cut a quick line down his inseam.   
  
He sticks the blade between his teeth and grabs the material with both hands, yanking on it hard, splitting it the entire length of his leg. Above him, Jim makes more disgruntled noises about the state of his suit which are pointedly ignored. Sebastian doesn’t waste anymore time, quick cuts and hard pulls on fabric, one brief moment where Sebastian works out the best way to cut off Jim’s belt, and the trousers are on the floor in a shredded heap. He sits back to survey his handiwork, Jim sprawled out on the bed, completely bare skinned except for the dark tie still looped around his neck, cock leaning heavily against his belly.   
  
“No pants?”  
  
Jim wrinkles his nose at Sebastian with a playful expression. “Didn’t think I’d need them.”   
  
“Been planning this all day, then?”  
  
“Well, I wasn’t expecting _this_ exactly. But, well, you know.”  
  
Sebastian rolls his eyes and drops down to sink his teeth around one of Jim’s nipples, teasing and torturing the hardened nub with his teeth and tongue. Jim’s fingers release the headboard and dive down to tangle into Sebastian’s hair, arching and gasping, “ _Yes!_ ”  
  
His reaction is almost instantaneous. Sebastian knocks Jim’s hand away and the knife comes down in a quick flash, splitting the skin over his hip in a bright red line. Jim cries out sharply in a mixture of _shockpleasurepain_ that confuses the hell out of him because being cut open shouldn’t feel _good_.   
  
Sebastian licks the tip of the knife clean and presses it under Jim’s chin, guiding the man’s face back to his. “Warned you, didn’t I?” Jim nods silently and he’s half tempted to make another grab for Sebastian, just to see if he’ll cut into him again. “We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Sebastian sets down his knife just long enough to free his own tie from his neck and loop it around Jim’s wrists, securing him in place. “Better.” Jim yanks on the restraints and pulls a face. Any other time he would revel in Sebastian tying him up, but right now he wants his hands free to cause trouble and bring the knife back.  
  
Leaning over Jim, Sebastian reaches for the bedside table and pulls out the bottle of lube still stashed there from their earlier days as a couple. Jim watches him slick up his fingers and spreads his legs a little wider, lifts his hips a little more. He’s practically gagging for it, desperate after so long to have Sebastian in him again.  
  
He isn’t ready to give in to Jim just yet, though. Jim’s woken up something in him that he’s been pushing down for ages. He wants to and he _can_ hurt Jim now, anyway he wants. And anything else he wants, Jim could probably arrange for him. Right now, he wants to tease Jim, make him ache, make him moan, make him _beg_ to be fucked, wants Jim so turned on that he’s in actual pain.  
  
Sebastian presses two fingers against Jim’s hole, only teasing briefly before pushing them in, eyes locked on Jim’s face, watching the way his breath hitches and his eyes roll back in pleasure. “Have you been touching yourself, Jim? At night, thinking of me?”

  
Jim twists his wrists against the tie and rocks up against Sebastian’s hand. “Every fucking night, Sebastian.” His voice is low and rough and best of all _needy_. “Pressing my fingers into the bruises you left while I stroked myself off, imagining you putting them there all over again.”   
  
He doesn’t have the self control left not to lean in and cover Jim’s mouth with his own, sucking hard on his tongue and swallowing the whimpers and groans that Jim makes. There may be words gasped between rough kisses, but Sebastian can’t make them out and doesn’t care to try. His mind is too busy focusing on his fingers inside of Jim’s moving in him and stretching him. When he pulls his fingers free, Jim expresses his displeasure with a sharp bite to Sebastian’s lower lip; Sebastian just smirks against his mouth and doesn’t let up, distracting Jim from what his hands are doing.  
  
One hand slides over Jim’s cock, torturing him with feather light touches that aren’t near enough for anything, while the other pours a liberal amount of lubricant across the handle of the knife. He spreads the fluid around carefully and then palms the switchblade, turning it over to hold it gingerly by the blade.   
  
He pushes the blunt end of the handle against Jim’s hole and before the man can protest, pushes the tip of it past the tight ring of muscles and into Jim’s body. Jim lets out a strangled cry of surprise that Sebastian swallows down, shushing him quietly and murmuring against his lips.  
  
“Hush, now, pet. Let me take care of you.” He drops slow, wet kisses along Jim’s jaw, “Told you I’d do what I like to you.” The fingers of his free hand stroke through Jim’s hair soothingly. “Relax, sweetheart.” Jim breath comes in short, sharp pants like he’s a wild animal on the verge of panic. He doesn’t know what to do because this is different and weird and wrong and god, it feels good.   
  
Sebastian moves away from Jim’s neck and starts liking his way down the man’s chest, dropping kisses and light nips down his body. Jim shivers under him and leans his head back, letting out a low moan as he feels Sebastian start to shift the handle. “F-fuck…Seb…” Sebastian hums vaguely in reply and drags his tongue over the cut on Jim’s hip as he starts to slowly pump the handle in and out of Jim.  
  
Jim’s entire body shudders and he flexes against his restraints, pushing down against the handle. “Oh… _god_ , Sebas- fucking…,” he lifts his head to look at his lover. “How the fuck are you still- _yes!_ dressed?” Sebastian replies with a non-committal sound and twists the knife, turning Jim’s next words into incoherent rambling.   
  
He keeps up a steady pace, driving the handle in and out of Jim’s body, hard enough to tease but not enough to get Jim off. He avoids touching Jim’s cock at all, enjoying the ways his moans pitch up an octave as writhes against the sheets.  
  
“Please. Plea-ohgod!-please! Sebastian. Fuck me. I need, _yesthereyesnow_ you. In me. Fuck me, pleaseplease _please_.” Jim’s words come out in half coherent sentence, interspersed with broken off noises and frantic moans. Jim feels like he’s being driven out of his own mind. The only thing he can focus on his how much he wants to feel Sebastian’s inside of him, _needs_ the other man’s cock pounding into him.   
  
The man ignores his blatant begging and continues to torture him, driving his senses wild with overstimulation. Everything feels too bright and too rough and his skin is burning, every shift against the sheets makes his skin hurt; his nerves are oversensitive and needs to come, but it hurts _so good_ He finally chokes out, practically sobbing, “ _Please!_ Enough!” and the handle is out of him and Sebastian’s body is covering his. Sebastian’s mouth is on his, kissing him, drowning him, owning him and the rub of Sebastian’s shirt against his bare chest makes his skin hurt in a deliciously painful way.

  
His legs wrap tightly around Sebastian, heels digging into the small of his back and pulling him in deeper with each thrust. He presses his face to the crook of Jim’s neck and rattles of strings of endearments, encouragements and nonsensical words. Sebastian’s fingers tighten on Jim’s hips, one thumb pressing hard against the still bleeding cut, driving into Jim’s body with enough force to slam the bed frame against the wall with each thrust.   
  
Jim’s already overtaxed body doesn’t last long, he comes hard, screaming out “ _’Bastian!_ ”, and he thinks he might actually black out from the force of it. It doesn’t take long for Sebastian to follow him, not with the way Jim is still writhing against him and the way he’s making those small noises in the back of his throat. Sebastian grabs a handful of Jim’s hair and yanks his head back, exposing his neck for Sebastian to sink his teeth into, groaning against the skin as he comes inside of Jim’s, body trembling as he struggles not to collapse on top of the smaller man.  
  
As soon as he recovers enough to move, Sebastian pulls gingerly out of Jim and rolls over to one side, gasping for air. One hand fumbles with the knotted tie and frees Jim who immediately, as always, splays himself across Sebastian’s chest, where he intends to pass out.  
  
Sebastian lifts one of Jim’s wrists and inspects the chafed skin. He brushes his lips lightly over it. “We need to talk about this, Jim.”  
  
Jim mumbles hazily against his chest. “Later. Well-fucked. Rest now.”  
  
Sebastian snorts but doesn’t say anything else, just traces his fingers up and down the sweat slick skin of Jim’s back and wonders what kind of life he’s just signed up for.


	18. Chapter 18

Their talk the next morning doesn’t go as Sebastian planned. He supposes it’s because he expected them to be dressed for it.  
  
Instead, he finds himself stripped down to his skin, leaned against the headboard with Jim straddling him, hands braced on Sebastian’s shoulders, slowly sliding up and down the length of his cock, panting against his ear, half filthy things that he wants to do with Sebastian and half actual, useful information. Sebastian is genuinely torn between which he’d prefer to hear.  
  
“You will learn the different between when I am your boss and when I am your lover.” Jim hisses as he mouths against Sebastian’s jaw. “When I am your boss, you will do _everything_ ,” he emphasizes his point with a sharp bite that pulls a moan from Sebastian, “that I tell you to, without question. You are _mine_ and you will _obey_ me.” One hand wanders down to tease a nipple, pinching and twisting and drawing out a groan of agreement.  
  
“And when you’re my lover?” Sebastian’s fingers tighten on Jim’s hips, guiding him up and down, bruises blossoming in a pattern that Sebastian intends to recreate at every chance.  
  
Jim’s hands slide to capture Sebastian’s hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck. He runs his tongue along the length of it and purrs, “Then you can have me as you like. However you want me, you can make me beg, make me scream, make me cry. Anything you like. I am yours to use.” Sebastian’s hands slide up the length of Jim’s back and grip the back of his shoulders.  
  
“Regardless of what you are at a given time, above all else, you are _mine_ , Jim. No one else is allowed to have you or even fucking touch you. If anyone else lays so much as a hand on you,” His grip tightens enough to stop Jim from moving and he turns his head to meet the man’s eyes, “I’ll kill them. I swear it, I will.” There’s a long pause while Jim inspects Sebastian’s face before that Cheshire fucking Cat grin comes back.  
  
“Good. I expect nothing less.” Jim wriggles against Sebastian’s grip and twists his hips, causing any further comment from Sebastian to die in his throat. “Oh and one more thing, dear.”  
  
He leans back from Sebastian’s chest and strikes his hard across the face. When Sebastian’s head snaps to the side, Jim leans in to brush his lips over the reddening skin. “Punch me again, and I’ll skin you and wear you like a suit. Understood?”  
  
Sebastian’s arms snake quickly around Jim’s body and he flips them over, pinning Jim to the mattress. “Understood. But. If you hit me first, I _will_ hit back.” He kisses the tip of Jim’s nose light. “Dear.”  
  
Jim snorts and laughs at him. “I’ll keep that in mind for when I want you to hit me.” Jim scratches his fingernails down the length of Sebastian’s back, grinning when he shudders. “You’re stuck with me, you know that, don’t you?”  
  
“I got that impression after the last time we broke up, yea.” His hands slide under Jim’s thighs and push them up, encouraging Jim to wrap his legs around him.  
  
“I don’t let go of the things I want. Never.” Jim arches his back and presses himself fully against Sebastian. “And it’s too late to go back.”  
  
Sebastian smirks and covers Jim’s mouth with his again, twisting their tongues together in a hard, bruising kiss before pull back to pant. “I thought as much.” He chuckles and presses another light kiss to the corner of Jim’s mouth. “Fuck, I hate you.”  
  
“No, you don’t.”  
  
“Prove it.”  
  
“You’re kissing me an awful lot for hating me.”  
  
“Hate kissing. Very similar to hate sex. Haven’t you ever heard of it?”  
  
“No, teach me about it. With _explicit_ detail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we end. Hope you all enjoyed it!


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